Common Bonds
by LittleWolf4
Summary: Eideann a woad, learns that there are common bonds between her people and the Sarmatian Knights. The first being their hatred of Rome. RR
1. Default Chapter

Chapter 1.

Grave Mistake.

Eideann crouched silently, her body blending effortlessly amongst the foliage of the trees, her pale skin decorated in blue dye and tattoos, most of her tribal tattoos had faded with the moisture of the fog, but a few remained as clear as ever, tracing delicate and intricate patterns. One at the base of her throat and two more adorning her wrists, each one unique, marking out from her kin. No Warrior ever bore the same tattoos not even those born of the same blood.

Moving slightly Eideann watched as the Roman Legionnaires stood guard at their post. A small stone building with its door hidden behind a wall of rock. The Roman, Marius Honorius would pay dearly for what he had done. He would learn a hard lesson before the night was out, she would see to it.

As nightfall descended Eideann made her way silently towards the small door situated in the western wall of estate. She had learnt from her scouting, that the door was used by servants to gain access to the main courtyard.

She moved swiftly, every fibre in her body ready for attack; she had to be quick in removing the guards, so as not to be seen by any of the villagers or guards who worked on the estate.

Eideann found herself relieved that she had chosen to wear the leather garb of her people. Her movements went unhindered by the light doe skin breeches and sleeved leather harness that covered her upper body. Though the garb didn't offer any protection against the blade of an enemy and showed far more skin than most were accustom too, it had been designed for speed rather than protection and modesty.

Unsheathing her dagger, the Woad warrior made her way to the main house. The house was large and grand looking, typical of a Roman noble, she supposed. With large stone pillars supporting the building and richly coloured fabrics draped across the windows.

Even before she'd placed a foot upon the first step, Eideann knew she'd made grave mistake coming alone.

Roman Legionnaires were stood at every possible entrance to the house. However cruel the Roman Marius Honorius was, he was certainly no fool. He had enough guards and mercenaries to ensure any attempt made on his life by a single individual would mean death.

Retreating back so that she was cloaked in the shadows, Eideann observed her current situation.

None of the guards appeared to carry bows, which offered a high possibility that these men were trained in close combat.

There was movement to her left, out of the corner of her eye, Eideann saw a figure approach. Stifling a gasp of surprise, she found herself on the floor with a well placed slap. Licking her lower lip tentatively, Eideann was angered by the irony taste of her blood.

Staggering to her feet, she snarled at the large Roman soldier like a wild animal, her teeth flashing white against the dye that covered her face and lips. She leapt at the man who had hit her and swiped her dagger across his wrist, forcing him to drop his weapon. The man let out a scream of pain, before she stabbed him in the neck.

A flash of steel caught her attention as a sword swung towards her head, rolling clear of the strike Eideann lashed out at the soldiers knees aiming to cripple her attacker. Pain suddenly erupted through her right side causing her screeched out both pain and rage. She had let her guard down.

At the sounds of fighting, Marius himself had come to investigate, he found himself stunned by what he saw. His men struggling to subdue one Woad warrior, a woman no less. She would pay for her insolence; did she not know her place in world?

"Do not kill her!" He ordered, "She will be punished for her actions against Gods will. She must learn her place".

Eideann was quickly being over powered and her strength was failing as her life's blood flowed freely from the wound in her side. Stumbling to her hands and knees, she made one final attempt to regain her footing.

The nearest soldier quickly swathed her attempt, kicking her savagely in her already wounded side, with a heavy boot. His action was followed by a sickening crack and an agonised cry of pain. Both of which were delightful sounds to Marius.

Eideann had not expected to be kicked she was already on her knees, what else did he want from her? The pain was almost blinding as she struggled to breathe, pride got the better of her, and she would not crawl on her knees for any man, especially a Roman. Rising defiantly, the Woad woman struggled to her feet, blood rising in her throat.

"Show some respect!" the soldier growled kicking her again.

This time even the sound of her own voice took her by surprise. Lost in her pain Eideann was horrified to hear her own scream echoing around the courtyard of the estate.

"Take her to the temple," Marius sniffed, looking at the bleeding woman lying on the floor. Stepping in front of the woman, who was being held by his men, he gripped her chin roughly smudging the blue dye. "I have a special place for your kind," he whispered coldly.

Eideann raised her sapphire blue eyes to look at him, her face lined with pain. Anger and hatred raced through her, as she managed to focus her swimming vision on the arrogant Roman. With one final act of defiance, she spat at him, leering savagely as her bloody salvia tainted his white toga.

Marius Honorius retorted swiftly, the back of his hand connecting with her cheek. The strike caused Eideann's head to snap painfully to the side, while fresh blood oozed slowly from her split lip.

"Take her away," Marius ordered his men, before he retreated back inside.

Eideann, too exhausted to do much else allowed herself to be dragged away. Her only thoughts before darkness claimed her were at least now she would know whether Guinevere still lived.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own any of it, except for the character of Eideann.

Thanks to those of you who have reviewed, you rock!

As the pairing of this story I'm still undecided, should it be Eideann/Tristran or Eideann/Gawain? Shrugs I'll let you decide I think. R/R.

Chapter 2

Rescue and a Wolf.

The darkness was oppressive, mingled with the cries and screams of tortured prisoners.

Eideann remained motionless and silent, as she listened to her Christian captors rambling away in a language she didn't understand. Her side burned, it was certainly infected, and she had been here for too long without the presence of a healer. How long had she been here? Weeks, months? The visits from Marius' wife had become more infrequent. Eideann and Guinevere had never been so grateful to the Roman woman for her kindness, for her secret visits to bring them a little food.

_Guinevere…_Eideann let her thoughts drift to her friend. The other Woad woman had been here longer than herself; and she had suffered greatly at the hands of the monks, in their attempt to make her revert to their religion.

"Guinevere?" she whispered hoarsely, her voice weak from lack of use and water.

A slight shuffling signified to Eideann that Guinevere had heard, peering through the bars of her cell, she offered a weak smile to her friend.

Guinevere just catching the brief show of reassurance returned the gesture, before slumping back against the algae covered wall of her cell.

Eideann was able to make out Guinevere's left hand, which was wrapped in pieces of filthy rags. They had dislocated her fingers.

A blinding shaft of light streaked through the dungeon, signalling that someone was coming from the outside.

Shifting painfully, Eideann turned her attention to the steps that lead to her freedom, if she ever escaped.

Turning her head away from the bright light that hurt her eyes, Eideann blinked rapidly as tears streamed from her weakened eyes, leaving wet tracks trough her dirt covered face.

"Take her out, I want my men to teach her a lesson, before she repents," Marius Honorius' voice ordered.

Eideann's breath caught in her throat as several men advanced towards her cell.

Guinevere huddled in the corner of her cell, unshed tears gleaming in her eyes, tears for herself and for Eideann, who had yet to be brought back to her cell.

Guinevere could only imagine the things her friend was being put through, in the name of this Christian God. But, for all her worries, she couldn't understand why Eideann had been taken outside.

Voices, voices in the dark.

_"Who are these defilers of the Lord's temple?" The monk demanded._

_"Out of the way!" a dark haired knight demanded, one of his two blades drawn._

_Crouching down the knight regarded the corpse in disgust. "The work of your God? Is this how he answers your prayers?" he asked turning to look at his fellow knight, unable to keep the disgust from his voice._

_"See if there's any still alive," The second knight ordered, with an air of authority in his voice._

Guinevere wasn't sure it was real; even as she felt herself being carried outside she still couldn't believe it. Screwing her eyes shut against the harsh light, she felt herself lowered gentle to the floor.

"Water! Get me some water!" her rescuer yelled.

Water flowed suddenly into her mouth, trickling down her throat causing her to splutter in surprise. Before she began to drink slowly savouring the feeling of the cool liquid soothing her parched mouth.

"She's Woad," a dark hair knight spoke from the back of his horse.

"I'm a Roman Officer, you're safe now," the knight who'd saved her told her kindly.

A thought suddenly occurred to Guinevere, Where was Eideann? Struggling against the light of day, she gazed around with sensitive eyes, "Eideann…" she croaked out.

The knight frowned, "There were none left alive besides yourself and the boy," he answered mournfully, "I'm sorry".

Guinevere shook her head weakly, "She was taken…outside".

Marius suddenly charged forward, "Stop what you are doing!" he ordered.

Rising to his feet, Guinevere's rescuer regarded the Roman noble coldly, "What is this madness?" he demanded.

"They are all pagans here," Marius answered sharply.

"So are we," another knight interjected, his youthful face masked with dislike as he looked at the Roman.

"They refuse to do the task that God has set for them," Marius continued, "They must die as an example!"

"You mean they refuse to be your serfs?" the knight bellowed back.

Marius looked upon the knight, known as Arthur with surprise, "You are a Roman, you understand and you are a Christian!" he snapped, "You!" he snarled turning to his wife. "You kept them alive!" he raged slapping the woman.

Arthur struck the man in response, his anger getting the better of him. Placing his sword at Marius' throat he glared at him.

"When we get to the wall, you will be punished for this heresy" Marius growled, staring up at the man who held a blade to his throat.

Arthur smirked at him, "Then perhaps I should kill you now and seal my fate".

The small boy cradled in the large knight, Dagonet's arms looked around worried, "Eideann, where's Eideann?" he asked quietly, fearing the woman who had often sung to him in the dark was now dead.

Arthur turned to the man at his feet, "Where is the other woman?" he demanded.

Marius glared at him, but spoke not caring to meet his end by the knight's sword, "She will sooner kill you. She's was sent by Satan himself to seduce and kill all Roman men who cross her path," he warned.

Marius' wife, Fulcinia stepped forward, holding a hand to her slightly swollen cheek, "I will take you to her. I only pray she will still be breathing to know she is free".

Arthur nodded his thanks, turning his attention to the monks, "Wall them back up," he ordered darkly, not interested in the insane rambling of the gaunt looking men.

"Arthur," one of the knights who spoken earlier looked to protest.

"I said wall them back!" Arthur repeated, not interested in his scout's protest about their lack of time.

"Hurry it's this way," Fulcinia told him, ushering him to follow her.

Arthur nodded, turning quickly to his men he addressed them, "Tristran, Gawain you come with me. Dagonet get the wounded in a wagon; see to their injuries as best you can. Lancelot, Bors, Galahad get this people ready to leave. We will move as soon as I've returned".

The ground was hard, but Eideann cared little, as she stumbled to her knees, cradling her bleeding side. As the group of mercenaries working for Marius laughed. Saxon drums hammered relentlessly somewhere in the distance.

She stared at the dagger just beyond her reach, they were taunting her. Like a wolf pack does to a wounded deer, before they kill it.

She turned her gaze to the chain attached to her left ankle. So this was how she would die. Shackled to a stake, like some sacrificial goat.

It had begun to snow, causing her to shiver slightly, her Woad armour offering no warmth in the wintry climate. When she'd first been imprisoned the monks had been horrified she was wearing such a revealing garb, but it later served as an excuse to torture her. To punish her for being such a loose woman, offering her body to any man she saw fit.

A lone wolf howled somewhere in the distance, breaking her thoughts as she searched the nearby trees.

"What's the matter little pagan?" one of them sneered, "Finally decided to kneel to our God?"

Eideann raised her head to look at the man who had spoken, and leapt for him, her hands outstretched as she bared her nails. Wanting nothing more than to claw his eyes out.

The chain snapped tight, cruelly wrenching Eideann's leg flinging her backwards just out of reach of her tormentor. As she was kicked repeatedly by the man she sought to maim, Eideann curled herself into a ball trying in a hopeless attempt to protect her already broken ribs. He grabbed a hand full of her filthy dark hair yanking her to her feet "Have you learnt nothing?" he asked, as the wolf howled again, closer this time. "You aren't worthy of standing in front of me. Your place is on your knees." He laughed gruffly throwing her back to the floor, where she landed with a small heart wrenching whimper.

Eideann took, suffocating shallow breaths; in attempt to supply her failing body with oxygen. Each breath brought mind numbing bouts of pain, as she fought to remain conscious.

As darkness pulled her away from the agony she was experiencing, Eideann was vaguely aware of soft warmth, resting lightly over her right hip… growling…and the sound of horses.

Tristran watched silently as the group of men backed away from whatever is was they had surrounded. The gathered men seemed almost oblivious to their presence. Notching his bow, Tristran let an arrow land in the ground at the feet of one of the men.

The man jumped back in surprise before glaring coldly at the silent man who had already notched a second arrow in place.

Gawain raised himself in his saddle to peer over the heads of the crowd, in a hope he get a glimpse of what had them so enthralled. A large grey wolf was standing over the body of a young woman. The woman herself appeared to be unconscious, her body covered in grime, blood and bruises. Even filthy as she was, Gawain did not miss the fact was she was clean she would in fact be very beautiful.

"Arthur, they've a girl shackled to a stake, and from the looks of it a slight wolf problem". He told his commander, sitting back down in his saddle and loosening his axe.

"We've come for the girl," Arthur informed the group, half of whom were still staring at the snarling wolf.

The man, who had delivered most of the beatings to the Woad woman, stepped forward. "You can have her, if you can get passed the wolf," he muttered, stepping aside to give the knights a clear view of the enraged animal.

Arthur glanced at his scout, "Tristran".

The scout raised his bow slowly, his gaze resting on the wild yet beautiful animal.

The wolf lowered her head, her amber eyes gleaming with intelligence. Locking her gaze with the knight, her growls turned to anguished whines as she stepped back from the wounded woman.

Not sure what to make of such a strange display, the scout glanced at his fellow knights. "She seems to understand why we're here," he stated, looking back at the wolf.

Gawain shook his head, "That is ridiculous. How could a wolf possible…"

"Animals can sense such things, the same way people can," Tristran cut him off. "Arthur I don't think she will bother us," the scout continued lowering his bow.

Arthur gave an unsure nod, before returning his attention to Marius' men, "The rest of you return to the caravans, we are leaving soon. Unless you wish to stay and greet the Saxons".

The men looked at each other, before dispersing each making their way back to where the wagons were being loaded. As they watched none of knights missed the lingering look, the leader of the mercenaries gave the unconscious woman.

"We'll have to keep on him, if she survives," Gawain decided, as he dismounted, eyeing the wolf. "Tristran are you sure that wolf won't attack?" he questioned.

"No," the scout answered with a shrug.

The wolf stepped back another few spaces, before lying down, her black nose just touching the cheek of the Woad warrior, before she let out another pitiful whine.

Fulcinia looked apprehensively at the animal taking a step back.

Tristran glanced out the corner of his eye, and inwardly cursed them for their coward ness. Wasn't it Arthur who wanted to save her?

"Stay here then, I'll go," he smirked "And if I get mauled you know not to come any closer".

"Was that your attempt at a joke?" Gawain stared after him.

Tristran allowed the corner of his mouth lift in slight smile before he concentrated on the wolf and the girl.

Cautiously, he moved towards the unconscious girl. Her skin looked almost grey due to the combination of dirt and what was left of the woad dye. Her breathing was so shallow; he almost doubted she was still alive, until he saw a faint mist rise from her pale lips. Lightly touching her bleeding side, he gave a slight shake of his head.

"Her ribs are broken, she's struggling to breathe."

The wolf gave another whine, before throwing back her grey head and howled mournfully towards the sky.

"We need to get her to the wagon," Arthur spoke, coming to kneel beside his scout.

The wolf gave the wounded woman a gentle nudge and licked her cheek, before rising and swiftly disappearing into the trees.

"Poor Child," Marius' wife murmured.

Raising his sword Arthur bought the blade down hard on the chain, freeing the girl from the stake.

"Is it safe to move her?" Gawain asked bringing the horses closer.

Tristran looked at him silently for a moment, listening to the Saxon drums. "We don't have a choice".


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own any of it, except for the character of Eideann.

Thanks to those of you who have reviewed, you rock!

I have decided on the pairing for the story, but I'm not revealing it until later, so for now you'll just have to wait and see…

Chapter 3.

Painful Support

Drifting back from the sea of darkness, Eideann was aware she was no longer as cold as she had been. She was moving; the rhythmic sound of horse's hooves on soft ground reached her ears along with voices and the creaking of wood.

With a fatigued sigh, Eideann's eyes opened, slowly and blearily. A white hot pain burned through her entire right side. Her ribs felt as though they were caving inwards, puncturing her lungs and crushing her chest, rendering her breathless. She fought against the throbbing, gulping cold air into her lungs. Her throat was on fire. A small croak escaped her chapped lips, as she struggled to find her voice.

Her whimpers alerted the attention of the knight attending to a small boy. Seeing his third patient was finally awake, Dagonet moved to her side, allowing Fulcinia to watch over the boy.

"Do not be afraid," he soothed, "You're safe now."

Dagonet watched the Woad girl as she tried, and failed to sit up, collapsing on the makeshift bed with an aching sigh. Poor girl, she was terrified and in excruciating pain. Even though she remained silent while he spoke, Dagonet could see the understanding and intelligence that lurked behind the pain in her eyes.

"Your ribs are broken in several places. We had to bind them as tightly as we could so that we could force the gash closed. That is why you're struggling to breathe," he said gently.

Eideann studied him as he explained her injuries. He looked so fierce; from the scars that marred his face to his sheer size. Yet even though he looked every bit as savage as the stories said he was, Eideann saw in his eyes that he was actually a man of great loyalty and compassion. How different his path in life could've been, had he not been forced from his homeland by the Romans.

"Here, you must be thirsty," Dagonet offered, moving to fetch a water skin.

The flap of the wagon opened, allowing a bitter blast of cold inside. A knight with long wavy, blonde hair entered.

"Gawain," Dagonet nodded.

"Arthur asked me to see if you were alright," the blonde man explained.

Dagonet nodded, "I'm fine, I have all the help I need, although there is something you could help me with…" He asked his comrade.

Gawain regarded Dagonet questioningly, before sensing that he was being watched. For the first time, the knight realised Eideann was awake and watching them silently, her large eyes taking in every word that was said. He gave a polite half smile, and found himself fascinated by her eyes. For some reason he was surprised by their colour, he had never seen such a strikingly rich shade of blue.

"What is it you want me to do?" He asked the large knight, his gaze not leaving the figure of the woman.

Dagonet undid the top of the water skin while he spoke, "If you could help the lady to sit, then I'll be able to give her a drink."

Gawain nodded, moving closer to the woman, he slipped an arm under her frail body. Slowly and gently, he began easing her into a sitting position, all the while being considerate of her wounds.

Eideann braced herself against the rough wooden floor, easing herself up, with the help of Gawain to support her meagre weight, into a sitting position. Pain rolled over her in spiteful waves, forcing her lips into a tight, colourless line. Inching herself upright, Eideann let out a sharp gasp and buried her pain stricken face into the knight's shoulder.

Gawain held her still for a moment, allowing her to huddle against him whilst he supported her small frame. He felt a slight rush of admiration for the woman, despite what he felt for the Woad people, he couldn't even begin to imagine the pain she was enduring.

"It's alright," he murmured "Don't suffer in silence; there's no shame in crying".

Eideann relaxed slightly choking out a small sob, her head still resting on his shoulder. She had never felt so helpless in her life. She was a warrior, a scout. She didn't rely on other people to help her. She didn't show her weaknesses, especially to strangers. Yet here she was accepting the aid of a Sarmatian knight.

Guinevere opened her eyes briefly to find Eideann sleeping, nestled in a pile of furs. Her heart gave a nervous jump, had she still not awoken?

Rising to a sitting position, Guinevere flexed her healing fingers which were no longer out of place, thanks to Arthur. She winced slightly at the faint throbbing, but smiled slightly never the less. At least she would be able to use her hand again, then those who had caused her and those she loved such pain would pay.

Dagonet's voice drew Guinevere from her thoughts, "Do not fear for your friend, she's resting. She has been awake long enough to take some food and water".

Guinevere smiled her eyes drifting back to the sleeping figure in the furs.

Dagonet gave a small smile, as he returned his attentions back to the feverish boy cradled in his arms, "Brave boy," he murmured tenderly.

Guinevere leaned against the side of the wagon, watching the trees longingly. How she wished to return to her father and the others.

Lifting her gaze from the tree, Guinevere found herself watching Arthur, as he rode silently just ahead of them.

"My father told me great tales of you," she told him.

Arthur turned slightly in his saddle to look at her, "Really, and what did you hear?" he asked indifferently, not really caring what she had to tell him.

Guinevere smiled slightly, her gaze briefly returning to the trees, "Fairytales, the kind you hear about people who are so brave, so selfless that the can be real. Arthur and his knights, a leader both Briton and Roman," she paused slightly "and yet you chose your allegiance to Rome. To those who take what does not belong to them…"

Arthur gritted his teeth in growing irritation as she continued to speak.

"That same Rome who took your men from their homeland," She stated coldly.

"Listen!" Arthur snapped, "Lady, do not pretend you know anything about me or my men."

Guinevere shifted her position, so she could look at the Roman commander properly, "How many Britons have you killed?" she asked, enjoying the knowledge she was bothering him, and the information he was unwittingly providing.

"As many as tried to kill me. It's a natural state for any man to want to live".

"Animals live! It's a natural state for any man to want to live free in their own country" She retorted back coldly.

Shifting her position again, Guinevere allowed a smile to dance across her face. "I belong to this land. Where do you belong Arthur?" she questioned.

Arthur looked at her, his face emotionless as he spoke, "How's your hand?"

Guinevere smiled again, "I'll live I promise you," she told her voice taking a more flirtatious tone. "Is there nothing about my land that appeals to your heart? Your own father married a Briton. Even he must have found something to his liking".

Arthur turned back to face the front, not wishing to answer. Finally after a few moments of silence, he rode back to the front of wagons, signify that the conversation was over.

Eideann opened her eyes and glanced sleepily at Guinevere, "Guinevere?" She mused quietly, whilst wrapping an arm around her injured side.

The other Woad woman looked at her, a relieved smile settling on her features, "Eideann," she breathed, "You're awake, and I was beginning to think…" Guinevere lowered her eyes, not needing to finish her sentence.

Eideann remained silent, her features betraying nothing, not even the pain she was still experiencing. She simply reached across and gripped Guinevere's uninjured hand in her own.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own any of it, except for the character of Eideann.

Thanks to those of you who have reviewed, you rock!

To answer the question from one of my reviewers: Eideann, pronounced (E dean) is a Gaelic/Celtic name, meaning Fiery there are several different spellings of the name I just simply thought it would be more interesting not to spell it as people expect.

Chapter 4.

Unspoken Understanding.

Tristran rode silently, his ever watchful eyes peering into the lengthening shadows of the trees. His only company was the wind and a hawk, who glided on the chilly currents.

The enemy was close and they were moving too slowly, at this rate they would never reach the lake without encountering the Saxons.

Raising his eyes to the grey sky, the scout watched his winged companion circle lazily, appearing as though she didn't have a care in the world. Without warning the hawk suddenly gave a screech and dove downwards, streaking towards the trees.

Heeding the birds' warning, Tristran urged his horse further into the darkening trees.

Dismounting, he crouched silently, still as a rock. Hidden within the thick undergrowth, he notched his bow with a single arrow. A few moments of unearthly silence passed before four large men, dressed heavily furs, appeared through the trees, oblivious to the fact that a Sarmatian Knight was lying in the bushes, waiting to attack.

Tristran blinked, training his bow on the nearest Saxon. They were even closer than he'd thought; he wasn't going to be able to play with them, there wasn't time. Notching another two arrows in the bow, he let them loose killing three of the four men simultaneously.

The fourth Saxon scout froze, save only to draw his sword. Tristran rose to his feet and strode out of his hiding place, drawing his own scimitar, the silence broken by the metallic ring of his weapon.

The Saxon glared at him, his beady eyes darting around the trees, the tell tale signs that he was nervous. Tristran stepped to his right slightly, drawing his sword in a slow arch, taunting his opponent into making the first move.

The large Saxon charged at him, thrusting his sword at the Sarmatian scout's chest.

Tristran evaded the move easily, and returned the gesture with a well placed strike of his own, as he bought his curved blade down on the Saxon's exposed back, almost cleaving the man in two.

Watching the Saxon slump to the floor, Tristran wiped his crimson drenched blade on the dead mans furs.

Turning his attention to the other three scouts, he picked up one of the crossbows that lay discarded near the body of smallest of the men. Examining it closely, Tristran gave a small sigh. This would be a problem.

Returning to where he'd left his mount, the scout noticed the dappled horse was shying away from something. Drawing his sword Tristran listened, his senses probing the area for danger. What could have spooked his battle hardened steed?

Then he felt it, rather than saw it. He was being watched. Turning slightly he saw a pair of gleaming amber eyes regarding him, as the large grey she-wolf observed him coolly from the shade of an oak. Tristran watched as the animal stepped from the shadows and sat calmly on her haunches, maintaining a careful distance between himself and his horse.

There was no mistaking it; the wolf was the same one who saved the Woad woman from the mercenaries at the Roman estate.

Seeing that the wolf made know attempt to threaten him, Tristran sheathed his blade and walked slowly towards his nervous horse. Quickly mounting the spooky animal, Tristran turned his horse to face the wolf and said, in his naturally quiet tone, "Your friend is safe."

Urging his horse forward, Tristran galloped off through the trees back to the trail that would lead him to Arthur and the others.

The wolf gave a wag of her tail before letting out a small yip and took off after the knight.

Eideann sat quietly, observing the surroundings of the camp. She knew these woods; she knew them very well in fact. Still cradling her aching side, she glanced around to see if anyone was awake before she rose, unsteadily to her feet. She was feeling better in herself, but an injury such as hers would take weeks to completely heal.

Being clean also played a part in her lighter mood. Her skin was no longer clogged with several weeks' worth of grime and blood.

Fulcinia had bathed her, washed her hair and re-bandaged her ribs before clothing Eideann in one of her own dresses. A dark green one, it was simple but elegant at the same time. Eideann couldn't even begin to think of how she would ever repay the Roman woman for her kindness.

A wolf howled somewhere, within the depths of the trees, the mournful cry echoing off into the distance unanswered.

Half listening to the call, Eideann allowed her thoughts to wander back to her own companion. The large grey wolf, it was a mystery even to Eideann as to why the wolf was so contented to travel with her.

A slight smile played on her lips, as she remembered the day she and the wolf had first crossed paths.

The wolf herself was a rogue, choosing to remain without a pack, she had been terrorizing a village, and the village in fact had turned out to be part of the large Roman estate, governed by Marius Honorius.

Eideann had found her whilst out scouting; the wolf was caught in a snare by her left foreleg. The animal had been there at least two days; she'd begun to gnaw at her own paw in an attempt to escape the flesh biting wire.

Eideann would've put her out of her misery, with a well placed arrow, if it hadn't have been for the look in the wolf's amber eyes. Intelligence, the animal had understood.

Instead Eideann had cut the wolf free, and watched her limp off into the brush.

The howl rose again into the chilly dawn air, again it went unanswered.

Eideann raised her hand and gripped the side of the wagon, waiting for the pain in her side to lessen before she took a step forward.

Moving slowly Eideann looked around the sleeping camp, the icy breeze pulling at the waist length strands of her dark hair that cascaded down her back. It was too painful to braid her own hair, and she'd had been too proud to ask for help over such a simple thing.

It had snowed again during the night, blanketing the ground and surrounding area in white. The cold didn't really bother Eideann, after all she'd suffered much worse, but she pulled the cloak Fulcinia had given her tightly around her shoulders anyway.

Looking around at the sleeping occupants of the camp, Eideann was slightly surprised not to see Guinevere anywhere; she had disappeared shortly after their bath and had yet to return.

Walking around the storage wagon where the spare weapons and armour were kept, Eideann noticed that one of the white fabric flaps was open, revealing a good number of swords, axes and bows. At the sight of weaponry, Eideann was reminded of the fact that Marius was still in possession of her own weapons. Which he had confiscated during her imprisonment. Picking up one of the delicate looking daggers, Eideann held the small blade in her hand, testing the weight. The sound of men muttering caught her attention as she quickly scanned the camp for any signs of those who were awake. There was movement near one the wagons, where the knight, Dagonet and the boy Lucan lay sleeping. The mercenaries hired by Marius Honorius

"Dagonet!" she shouted in warning, as five of Marius' mercenaries dragged the large man away from the boy.

"No!" Lucan shouted, horror glazing his features as the mercenaries attacked his protector.

Dagonet fought back savagely, he wouldn't go without a fight. A Mercenary appeared from beside the wagon, with his weapon drawn, attempting to get behind the enraged knight.

The mercenary froze, his grey eyes widening in surprise at the sight of Eideann as she appeared almost out of thin air. He hadn't seen her approach until she was almost in front of him. She looked like a feral witch, her blue eyes blazing, and her long hair billowing out around her face.

Blinking the man raised his sword, his leader may not be strong enough to kill the pagan whore but he was; he wouldn't be so easily seduced.

Eideann lashed out with her knife in defence of her own life and those who had protected her. The man gave a gasp before the blood trickled from the gash in his throat, and he crumpled on the floor, the crimson liquid staining the snow white ground.

"I have the boy!" Marius shouted, sneering at Dagonet and Eideann. He gripped Lucan around the chest with one arm, whilst holding a dagger at the boy's throat.

Eideann looked at Dagonet, the knight had frozen in place, his eyes clamped on the terrified boy.

Marius' wife and son appeared from one of the wagons. Fulcinia looked horrified at the sight of her husband holding the poor boy at knife point.

"Kill them!" Marius hissed, indicating for his men to attack the lone knight and the Woad woman.

Fulcinia flung herself at her husband, attempting to get him to release the boy "No don't! Let them go!" She wrenched at him arm pitifully.

Marius flung her to the ground, as though he was dealing with a pesky insect. "Kill them now!" He bellowed.

Eideann snarled at the nearest mercenary, clutching her knife.

A lone arrow raced through the air, embedding itself in the right lung of Marius Honorius.

Eideann and Dagonet both turned in surprise, to see Guinevere appearing from the trees a second arrow notched in her bow.

The Roman noble, gave a few struggled gasps of breath before falling to the ground, allowing a terrified Lucan to race into Dagonet's arms.

Guinevere remained motionless her bow aimed at the gathered mercenaries, whilst Dagonet gripped the hilt of his broad sword.

Arthur and Lancelot appeared, protectively flanking Guinevere. Lancelot glanced at her with a smirk, "Your hands seem better."

Eideann lowered her knife slightly, wrapping her arm around her ribs wincing. She was acutely aware that the other knights were riding up behind them.

Guinevere remained silent, but allowed her second arrow to fly, burying it in the ground at the feet of some of the men.

"Artorius!" Bors bellowed, galloping into camp, "Do we have a problem here?" he demanded, "Huh?"

Arthur finally stepped forward, Excalibur pointed at the nearest man, "You have a choice, either you help or you die," he stated calmly.

The men looked at each other, before one of them dropped his sword, "Put down your weapons," he ordered. "Do it now!"

Tristran galloped into the clearing, and instantly got the impression that something had happened.

"How many did you kill?" Bors asked, turning his horse to look at the scout.

"Four," Tristran replied easing his horse to a stop.

"Not a bad start to the morning," Bors laughed.

Tristran didn't reply, he merely dropped the Saxon crossbow at Arthur's feet, "Armour piecing. They're close, we have no time," he told his commander.

A flash of worry passed across Arthur's face before vanishing. "You ride ahead."

Eideann who had been watching the conversation quietly, moved painfully forward, wincing with each step. "Wait," she called to the scout.

Tristran stopped and turned around; he had to admit she was certainly something to look at. Her hair though dark was considerably lighter in colour now that is was clean and her pale skin was no longer hidden beneath the layers of Woad dye and dirt. Her green dress, clearly one belonging to the Roman woman, was simple but complimented her figure none the less. He also noticed she was still favouring her injured side. She continued to watch him with a sapphire gaze of understanding.

Eideann took another slow step forward, the bloody knife still in her hand, "I know this area. We won't make it across the lake." She stated quietly, locking gazes with the Sarmatian knight.

"There's no other way," Arthur interrupted, casting a questioning glance at Tristran.

"The ice won't hold." She replied her gaze still resting on Tristran.

"You know a way I don't?" Tristran said. It was more of a fact than a question.

The Woad woman gave a slight nod, her gaze drifting past him to rest on something else.

The she-wolf padded over and sat silently in front of the woman, her thick brush tail, wagging slightly.

Gawain stared in surprise at the creature, "Tristran is that…" he started.

Eideann regarded the wolf silently, before she reached out a hand and tenderly stroked the wolf's head. "We will show you the trail."

Tristran gave a small incline of his head, several dark braids falling into his face.

Picking up a rag from the wagon, Eideann wiped her knife clean and picked up the belt in which it belonged. She also retrieved a small pouch from her belongings that had been returned to her after Marius' death.

"Eideann, is this wise? You are still weak, your body needs time to heal," Guinevere told her, coming up to stand beside her friend, as the others made ready to leave.

"Time is something we don't have," Eideann stated calmly, placing a piece of willow bark in her mouth, to help ease the pain.

Moving back inside the wagon, Eideann changed back into her Woad armour, which was still dirty from her imprisonment. However, it would serve her better travelling than a dress.

Emerging a few moments later, Guinevere looked at her friend. She saw a proud, yet wounded woman stood before her, the sleeved harness revealed how severely Eideann had been beaten during their imprisonment. Her body was littered with dark bruises especially her right side; even the bandages couldn't disguise the fact her side was a mass of black and purple.

Pulling her cloak back on, Eideann moved passed the other woman, "I will scout ahead, and make sure the trail is clear."

Moving with surprising speed, despite her broken ribs, Eideann made her way to the edge of camp where the wolf was waiting.

Tristran rode over leading a second horse, a solid looking bay mare. "Here, every scout needs a horse."

Eideann gave a slight sigh, "How did you know?" she asked, her voice quivering slightly as a sudden blast of pain rolled over her, as she mounted the horse.

Tristran tilted his head regarding her, "I can just tell. You're sure you can do this?"

"My ribs are broken. I'm not dying. Injuries such as mine will take weeks to heal you know this," Eideann answered shortly, though she was touched by the scout's concern.

Nodding, Tristran waited for her to take the lead.

Eideann urged the horse forward, "I'm Eideann," she offered for no real reason, as she was sure he already knew.

Tristran glanced at her from the corner of his eye, "Tristran".

They rode silently as Eideann led the way towards an almost invisible trail, that led them deeper into the mountains.

"It will take us higher into the range, but the gods being kind, we should pass around the Saxon army unnoticed," she spoke in a low tone, glancing at the scout beside her.

"How much longer will it make the journey?" Tristran queried.

Eideann smiled slightly, "If it was just us, two days…" pausing she nodded her head back in the direction of the wagons behind them "...With the wagons and the rest of these people, four days maybe more."

Tristran gave a silent nod, but Eideann could sense his annoyance at the caravan's painstakingly slow pace.

Returning her attention to the trail, the young woad scout replaced her arm around her ribs, the effect of the willow bark had worn off. Still she wouldn't complain about the pain she was suffering, if they wanted to live then they had to get clear of the Saxon army.

Watching her from the corner of his eye, Tristran noted the slight look of discomfort on her face, before it was quickly masked. Though he didn't fail to notice that she arm remained wrapped around her side.

Raising her eyes to the sky, Eideann watched the darkening clouds for a moment. "We need to find shelter, there's a storm coming," she mused, looking expectantly at the she-wolf.

Tristran looked at the sky and nodded slowly.

Eideann tilted her head looking at him, finding it strange that this man trusted her enough to lead them all to safety. After all she was Woad, how many times had her people tried to kill him? It was not so long ago she would have taken a swipe at him herself if they had crossed paths.

She allowed herself a few moments to study this knight. The long dark hair which was braided in places, the identical tattoos adorning his cheeks, the armour was a combination of leather and chain mail, light and relatively quiet. He was battled hardened and deadly. She knew that, she only had to look at his posture and the weapons he carried to know he was no stranger when it came to handling a blade. But it was the man behind the warrior she was intrigued by, with the other knights she could see who they were, they let their emotions show. Tristran however, didn't and that was what roused her curiosity, he kept his emotions guarded.

Sensing he was being watched, Tristran allowed his gaze to fall from the darkening clouds. Moving slightly in the saddle he looked at Eideann, she returned his gaze silently, not once looking away. It intrigued him that she was so blatant in her observation of him; most women would have looked away once they had been caught staring. Eideann though did not, her sapphire gaze continued to study him for a few moments longer, retaining every detail to memory.

Tristran remained motionless, allowing her gaze to wander over him, it wasn't often he was watched; normally it was him doing the scrutinizing. Yet even as he allowed her to observe him, he wasn't threatened by it. She was merely calculating his strengths and weaknesses, something he, himself, had done to her.

Finally her gaze returned to his, sapphire blue meeting earthy brown. They had reached a wordless understanding. That no matter what had passed between the knights and woads previously; both stood a better chance of survival working together.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own any of it, except for the character of Eideann.

Thanks to those of you who have reviewed, you rock!

Chapter 5.

Cliffs and Observations

Guinevere sat silently, her arms wrapped around the sleeping figure of Lucan, in a motherly embrace. She had offered to watch over the boy while Dagonet took first watch.

She sighed gently as she watched the others settling down for the night, protected against the on coming storm in the large cave. Eideann and the knight Tristran had bought her and the other serfs to it. Neither had offered an explanation as to how they'd come across such a vast cavern.

Guinevere frowned, _where was Eideann?_ She wished to inform her of her father and his hope of enlisting Arthur and the knights help in defending Briton against the Saxons.

_Where was she? She couldn't possibly still be scouting, the storm was about to hit and she was wounded._

She longed to get up and search for her friend, but she remained unmoving for fear of waking the child. Instead she sat cradling the boy in her arms, while nursing the ever growing anxiety in the pit of her stomach. Her gaze remained fixed upon the camouflaged entrance of branches and vines.

Tristran entered the cave, leading his horse to the back, where Jols set about tending to the beast. Walking back to the entrance the scout spoke quietly with Arthur before seating himself near one of the small campfires. The hawk perched elegantly on his arm.

"Tristran where's your pretty little blue demon?" Bors laughed, his voice carrying across the cave.

Guinevere flicked her gaze to the silent scout, her attention pricked. She also noticed that Bors' comment seemed to unsettle the blonde knight, who if she remembered rightly was called Gawain.

Tristran had risen to his feet again, his gaze sweeping the inhabitants of the camp. Several of the mercenaries employed by the roman Marius were also missing.

"She should have been back by now," Dagonet mused he too sweeping his gaze over the somewhat crowded cavern.

Tristran gave a nod of agreement, his mind drifting back to an earlier conversation he'd held with the woad scout.

_"We should get back to the cover of the caves," he mused his gaze darting to the sky._

_Eideann gave a slight nod, strands of her dark hair wrapping around her throat as the wind lifted them. "You go on ahead. I want to make sure our tracks are sufficiently covered. Wouldn't want a Saxon scout to get wind of our escape route."_

_Tristran tilted his head at her, casting a questioning look at her side._

_Eideann caught the look immediately and frowned slightly, "I will be fine, I just want to make sure we're not being followed."_

Turning around, Tristran moved silently back out of the covered entrance and into the darkness. It couldn't hurt to check.

Walking silently, Tristran gazed into the heavy darkness of the trees, knowing full well Eideann would have used the forest to help her remain unnoticed.

He couldn't see a great deal in the failing light, but he could hear well enough. The chilled wind aided his ears, bringing the ever familiar clash of metal against metal and the snarling of a beast, which he recognised as a wild dog or possibly even a wolf.

The sound of snow crunching beneath boots drew the scout's attention momentarily to his left. Gawain stood silently for a moment before loosening his axe.

Tristran gave a slight nod and moved quickly into the trees __

Eideann gave a gasp of pain stumbling to one knee, bracing herself with her free hand. Letting her fingers throb beneath the icy snow.

She let her gaze rest on her attacker, her armed wrapped around her ribs as she gripped her dagger. Blood dripped from the tip of the blade, leaving a splatter of crimson in the white perfection of the snow.

The large bearded man sat in the snow hissing through his teeth, clutching at his bleeding knee. He glowered at her as he rose unsteadily to his feet, "You'll pay for that one witch!" he snarled.

The large she-wolf growled warningly, her grey head lowered threateningly as she stared at the man's equally large companions.

Remaining in her crouched position Eideann gave a bitter cry, lunging at the man her dagger raised. She slashed the blade across his thigh, before rolling away from his own blade as it skipped across the skin near her collar bone. Creating a thin scratch, from which blood quickly began to well.

Wincing slightly at the renewed pain in her side, Eideann raised a hand gingerly to her neck. The small wound stung under her touch.

The wolf suddenly flung herself snarling and canines bared, at the first of the large men, wrestling him to the ground by his neck.

The second mercenary attempted to aid his comrade, raising his sword in the hope of slaying the creature, only to meet his end abruptly. A small hatchet buried between his shoulder blades.

Gawain pulled his weapon roughly from the dead body and turned his attention to the scene. The she-wolf looked at him, and would have appeared a picture of innocence, if it hadn't been for the crimson liquid dripping from her jaws and saturating the fur of her chest and muzzle.

Eideann snarled angrily, she would not appear weak to this roman mercenary, he may have beaten and bruised her, but he would not kill her.

Tristran wordlessly appeared beside her, his dark gaze on her attacker. He spared her a small look before drawing his weapon, pointing it at the mercenary.

The other man glanced first at Gawain and then back at Tristran, appearing unsure of his situation. Not that either of the knights could blame him, after all he'd gone from being the one with power and advantage; to a man with nothing.

Eideann stared in surprise at the silent scout, how had he known she was trouble? Why was he so keen to help her? They may be working together to gain a mutual goal, but she was a woad and he a knight, they were still enemies. Weren't they?

Staggering to his feet, the mercenary leader hissed at the pain emanating from the wounds in his leg.

Eideann snarled at the man who was bent on either killing or at the very least maiming her. Rising to stand at her full height, she glared defiantly at him, waiting for him to move against her.

Gawain stared at her, his entire body aching to kill the mercenary himself. To make him bleed for the pains he'd inflicted on Eideann. The make him writhe in agony for trying to mar her beauty. He thought back momentarily to the day he'd held her in the wagon, whispering soothing words of comfort to her as she fought against the pain to sit. He hoped to hold her again, under much more pleasurable circumstances.

Casting a brief look towards his comrade, Tristran saw mix of emotions playing across the blond knight's features. A dangerous mix of anger, hate and longing.

Why did Gawain always have to make his emotions so clear?

Flicking his dark gaze back to Eideann, he watched silently, waiting. The warrior in him wouldn't get involved in this fight anymore than he already had. It wasn't his place, this was Eideann's fight, and he wouldn't bring dishonour to her by making her look weak.

Eideann tilted her head regarding her opponent with calculating gaze. She would cripple him before she killed him; he would experience as much pain as she had before he died.

Moving suddenly Eideann charged at large man, before lashing out with her dagger, purposely aiming for his uninjured leg. The sharp blade sliced into the tender flesh of his thigh effortlessly, creating a deep welt, from which crimson blood gushed forth.

Crying out the mercenary attempted to subdue his agile enemy, he lashed out unpredictably with his heavy blade only to find his attack unsuccessful. The woman was too fast, she had been able to read his movement and evade the attack.

Eideann gave a laugh, caught in the depths of her battle lust she was immune to the pain of her ribs, as adrenaline flooded her system and pumped through her veins.

Watching her opponent drop to his knees, Eideann was suddenly made aware of the sound of drums. Turning slightly her gaze still resting on the crippled mercenary, she listened. The Saxon army was close, she would have to end this little game sooner than she would have liked.

"Why not leave him for the Saxons?" Gawain mused darkly, sensing the woman's sudden change of mood.

Eideann looked at him, struggling to remain stood, "And have him tell them where we are…" she shook her head, aware of the dull ache returning to her suddenly spent body.

Tristran looked at the wounded man thoughtfully, whilst stepping forward a few paces to stand beside the woad woman, "Could always cut out his tongue," he spoke quietly, a slight awry smile forming on his lips.

Eideann looked at him in mild surprise, before turning to catch a look at the horrified mercenary…

The cavern grew deathly silent as the sound of drums reached the ears of the other knights and their charge.

Guinevere looked towards Arthur, her gaze filled with worry; they couldn't possibly fight such a large number.

Gawain suddenly entered his face pale, leading Eideann's mare, "They're right below us," he whispered to Arthur.

Arthur frowned puzzled, how could the Saxon army be below them? They were headed right towards them. They hadn't changed direction even as Eideann led them onto the hidden trail.

"This part of the forest is set on a cliff, we're on higher ground," his knight continued to explain.

"What of Tristran and the girl?" Dagonet whispered, joining the conversation, as the other knights gathered round.

Gawain blanched, as he shifted uncomfortably trying to think of a way to describe what he had seen.

"Gawain?" Galahad queried, looking slightly concerned by his friends pale complexion.

"I bet they're strengthening that unspoken bond of theirs in the woods," Bors chuckled, knowing the doubled meaning of his words wouldn't be lost on the others.

Gawain glared at him, "They are merely working towards a common goal, making sure we all get to the wall alive. Nothing more, nothing less," he stated sharply as Galahad attempted to stifle his laughing.

Bors grinned with a nod "Uh huh, well tell me this Gawain, how many times has our beloved scout shown any interest in a woman?"

Gawain scowled, but remained silent.

Bors gave another quiet laugh, "There's passion brewing there," he chuckled, "You mark my words".

Dagonet regarded his large friend, it wasn't often that Bors noticed things and it surprised him that the man had managed to make such an accurate assumption of Tristran and the woad, Eideann. He had also noticed Tristran's suspicion of the Woad people melt when in the girls presence, and how the normally solitary scout hadn't objected to her company when he under took the scouting trip when they'd first arrived at the cave.

Arthur raised his hand, drawing his men's attention "Douse the fires, we can't risk being seen".

The roman boy Alecto rose to his feet having been listening to the conversation silently from his sleeping place, "If you put out the fires, we'll freeze".

Lancelot shrugged indifferently, "Better to be cold than slaughtered".

Eideann slowed her pace, suppressing a painful gasp. The adrenaline in her blood was wearing thin and the pain was returning with renewed fire to her side.

Tristran watched her with hawk like scrutiny; she was pushing herself beyond normal expectations. If she wasn't careful she'd end up back in the wagon or worse. The sound of the drums was almost deafening as they approached the direction of the Saxon army.

Finally she stopped completely and pointed wordlessly downwards. Kneeling silently Tristran allowed himself to lean forward so he could peer down. He was momentarily surprised to find they were perched on the edge of a fairly steep cliff. Below them were the shadowy hordes of Saxon invaders, marching purposely towards the area of the valley blocked by the frozen lake.

Stepping back from the edge, Eideann sank slowly to her knees, her eyes drifting closed for a moment.

Moving to her side, Tristran knelt down, his gaze following her moments as she wrapped her arm around her ribs and sank back on her heels with a small sigh.

"We'll rest here for a while," he decided.

Eideann gave a small nod, his voice soothing her aching head and the noise of the drums pounding in her ears.

Moving carefully, Eideann moved herself so that she could lean against the trunk of a nearby tree. Looking down at her throbbing side, she moved her hand gingerly over the bandaged area. There would have been a time when an injury wouldn't have bothered her so much, and it angered her that one such as hers did just that. It served to remind her just how fragile she was, that a man's boot could cause such excruciating and suffocating pain.

A snow flake settled lightly on the fabric of her clock before dissolving into nothing. Eideann shifted suddenly, almost screaming as the movement forced her ribs to twist. She managed to stifle her cry, biting down on her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. As the waves of pain subsided she looked at the dark sky as more white flakes began to fall, "We can't get caught in this storm," she said shakily.

Tristran rose to his feet and looked at her, she was in no state to be moving, and her body was exhausted even if her mind wasn't. She needed to rest.

"We have to get back to the others," she spoke again, this time her voice sounding more determined.

Using the tree for support Eideann slowly edged herself upwards and back to her feet. Gritting her teeth against the onslaught of pain.

Once she was on her feet, Tristran stepped back to her side, wordlessly placing a steadying hand around her upper arm.


End file.
